


The Life and Times Of Ex-Scouter Amp

by no_more_room_in_hell



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Graphic Description, Irken Empire (Invader Zim), Irkens (Invader Zim), OC (Invader Zim), Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue Missions, Smeets (Invader Zim), The Resisty (Invader Zim) - Freeform, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_more_room_in_hell/pseuds/no_more_room_in_hell
Summary: Super-indulgent fic about my Irken OC Amp. This story follows his experiences after defecting from the Irken Armada and living a life as a fugitive under the wing of the Resisty. But for all the protection, Amp can't help but feel like a burden. So he decides to do something... reckless.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	The Life and Times Of Ex-Scouter Amp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soz first fic and still trying to figure out how this shit works excuse the mess; no beta we die like men  
> THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS SORRY I'LL UPDATE THIS AT THE SAME TIME AS I UPLOAD THE NEW CHAPTER

For all it’s worth, Amp knew that one day he would have been caught. 

It was the one inevitability that was almost certain to come to pass. He’d been careful up until this point sure, but it would only take one mistake before the loose hold he had on his freedom would have slipped through his fingers like smoke. He didn’t trust that luck would have held it off for long either. Everything had been his own doing since the moment he decided to defect. But constantly being on the run didn’t leave a lot of room for making plans for when it would happen. He had a hard enough time trying to decide what he wanted to do with his time outside of ‘ _Do Not Get Caught_ ’. 

The Armada didn’t allow for deserters. Which was odd considering their stance on all the unreported dead irkens. It was often a joke among his colleagues that so long as you were where you were meant to be, it didn’t matter if you were dead or alive. If your superior said "Don’t move from that vat of highly corrosive acid", then you stayed in that vat of highly corrosive acid. Saluting the whole slow descent down as your flesh and bone was melted into nothing. 

But the other reason may have been that dead irkens tend to not be potential information leaks. Go figure.

The process of how to die properly had been hard-pressed into his mind since Scout Training. How could he forget?

> When the host expires due to outside circumstances then the PAK would completely obliterate any remaining biological matter connected to the host shortly before imploding on itself to make it impossible to salvage afterwards. When the PAK is damaged beyond self-repair methods, the self-destruct sequence will be initialised as per protocol. This sequence can also be self-initialised when captured or discovered. If the PAK is disconnected from the host, it commences a self-destruct countdown which leads to the rapid necrosis of the host's cells before self-destructing. On the rare chance that the host can reconnect to the PAK before the sequences ends then the process is cancelled and reset. But it is recommended to die with the PAK attached as to not leave behind your corpse as a study subject for the enemy. 

Seeing as how the line of work often demanded immediate suicide if discovered, it made sense that dying quick and honourably was the best option to avoid putting the Empire at risk. The protection of the Irken Empire and it's secrets always came first. Any information that could be potentially used against the Empire was a threat of the highest degree. Especially with potential invasion targets.

The things that would happen to a Scout at the hands of the enemy had been a particular highlight of the training. He remembered being hooked into an immersion pod and fed hot slices of pain from the minds of recaptured drones that had been sent back after they had outlasted their usefulness. Sometimes you'd see it happening to yourself as instruments of torture were drove into your mouth, your eyes, your sensitive holes. And you could scream and try to look away but the pod keeps your eyes fixed in place to see it happening. Amp remembered feeling so relieved once the simulation died away and the cold metallic fluid of the pod lapped at his ankles.

But someone else's sensations were permanently etched underneath his skin. It was meant as a warning to _always choose suicide_... lest you became another emulated feeling in the tanks. Sometimes he still felt itchy whenever looking at a corkscrew. 

This prompted him to rub at his arm, only to realise his prosthetic had been taken away once he'd been processed as a captive. The nub was too short to reach the other arm locked firmly to the chair, so instead he settled to scratch his wrist against the cuffs. It did little to relieve the phantom itch but at least it had been enough to interrupt his thoughts. 

Here he was... what would be his final resting place. A dingy mauve room with no windows and barely any ventilation.

He was tied to the ceiling, suspended from above by a thick cable protruding from his PAK. It's heavy claws were stuck secure, and gently thrummed with a small trickle of energy being fed into him. It was enough to keep his shell alive but not enough to let him summon anything from his PAK. One of this arms were clasped in a round cybernetic cuff that dragged his wrist downward towards the floor. The chain was pulled taunt at its anchor so he couldn't adjust his position from the awkward bend.

His amputated arm hadn't been secured in the same fashion so he was left to dangle unbalanced between the cuffs and the PAK cable. He would have swung his legs around to distract himself from the discomfort but the cybernetic connection past his waist had been disabled. His heels tapped together sluggishly as he swayed with the cable. 

In his cell, there was a simple metal table, a chair and a very obvious mirror. It sat directly opposite of him so he could see his reflection staring back. He looked tired. His face wore a haggard look of exhaustion. It'd been awhile since he last ate and it wasn't like he had the space to properly recharge post-capture. He breathed deeply, ignoring the acidic tone of cleaner, and tried to recollect himself. The worst part of being captured was the waiting. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in here now but prolonging the inevitable was both a small relief and the greatest source of anxiety. For now he could sway about oblivious to what torture may come... but it would come soon enough. 

A soft click was the only thing that announced another irken had entered the room. As the door closed behind them, Amp took a deep breath.

His time was now up. 

The other irken strode confidently in front of him. He was taller than average and was dressed sharp in long sweeping robes and pointy boots. In his hand he held a holographic device that glowed pink with various documents including Amp's service record. He stopped to stare into Amp directly as if to scan him deeply for any kind of betrayal. This other irken had the kind of sharp face that Amp honestly wished to spit in just to see it grimace if the opportunity presented itself. He could feel the globby ball of phlegm gathering under his tongue. The irken's eyes were a synthetic blue, he noted instead. Phlegm forgotten.

The sharp irken looked at the file photo and then back to Amp. He made a disapproving click in the back of his throat before swiftly laying his materials on the table and seated himself. Taking out a small black cube, he neatly placed it on the table.

"Begin _Session 0265_ ," said the other irken. The signature tick and whirr of a recorder began to listen intently.

"Agent Spi reporting on-site for interrogation of Prisoner 221. Agent Fiy is on-hand as secondary witness. Initial interview with subject shall begin now," Spi said, his tone was even. His eyes remained transfixed on his notes as he spoke again, "Name?"

Amp let the gentle hum of the cable speak for him. 

"PAK Serial Number?"

"..."

"Height?"

"..."

"Station?"

"..."

Agent Spi's antennae flicked with slight irritation. He leaned forward to fix Amp with another stare, "Your co-operation would be preferred during this time Prisoner 221. Your details are already known, this is just a formality." 

Amp was already well aware of the fact. The cable connected to his PAK had siphoned every last detail out of him before he could even let a thought betray him first. Of course, the omnipresent _They_ already knew everything there was to know. This interrogation was just a formality before he'd be sentenced accordingly by the Control Brains in his Trial. But the last little bit of irritation he could cause was just enough of a rebellion to satisfy him before the inevitable. 

Agent Spi leaned back in his chair and began reading from one of the holo-screens, "Subject has chosen to be uncooperative at this time so I, Agent Spi shall read from the transcript provided earlier. Subject's name is Amphora. PAK Serial number is ████████. She is of average height and build. Current Deployment is listed as a Scout Trooper on Planet ██████. Can you confirm that you are Private Amphora?"

Amp twitched at the use of his previous name. It felt unnatural to be called by it. 

"Amp... is fine," he said.

The agent smiled and Amp cursed himself for letting that tiny crack show. Spi continued smoothly.

"Additional: Subject has made major modifications to PAK including a transient electromagnetic disturbance transmitter found fixed into PAK shell, a mechanical device in place of a missing right arm, and various illegal software hardwired into the PAK's code. Do you have any comments to make on these modifications, Amphora?"

He felt his face crinkle with annoyance. What a scumbag.

"Subject has decided to make no comment," Agent Spi said, closing the transcript and opening another, "Subject has been found guilty of multiple counts of treason against the Irken Empire and its people. Other crimes are attached to case file for further review. The initial interview section is now completed. We shall now move onto the secondary interview." The agent flicked through the transcript briefly before settling onto a section. The reflection of his old service profile picture could be seen in the mirror. He looked once more at his captive, "What was your reason for abandoning your post, Scout Trooper Amphora?"

"That rank no longer belongs to me, Agent Spi. You may call me Amp," he replied. 

"You are correct. The rank does not belong to betrayers of the Empire," the agent paused a moment before flicking the transcript further down to obscure the face in the picture, "What was your reason for abandoning your post?"

"I didn't abandon my post."

"That's not what your service record reads."

"Check again."

"The record clearly reads that you abandoned your post."

"Does the record describe how?"

"That is not the focus of this interrogation."

"Wouldn't context be integral to your interrogation of my reasoning Agent?" 

Agent Spi paused a moment to think. He readjusted his position on the chair. Hesitating a moment longer he said, "State your context."

"It was assumed that I died on that particular mission."

"That would have been convenient assumption for a deserter to use as a cover."

"A convenient assumption for whoever left me there."

"Don't waste my time," Agent Spi sneered, "Care to verify who?"

"Probably not," Amp said flatly, "Soldiers have a habit of dying unexpectedly." 

"Shame, because each one of your patrol explicitly stated you deserted your post."

"Did they ever describe how?"

"That isn't for you to know."

"Are any of them actually alive or did you scrape it out their PAKs too?"

"That is not the focus of this interview," Spi said, tapping his claws against the table.

"You asked for verification. Why not have a scrape through my PAK memories, see if it's still there."

"We already have your detai-

"As you've said before Spi. You would know I didn't leave my post."

"But you didn't come back for it either," Spi spat out.

"Did you see me leave my post?" Amp shot back. Rattling the chains of the cuff.

"No I-"

"Did my colleagues see me leave my post?" 

"That's not the focus of th-"

"Or was I assumed to be dead?"

"It was- It is assumed you'd follow orders," the agent sputtered. He quickly glanced behind him at the reflective mirror. His brow furrowed deep in his smooth forehead. He took a moment to compose himself before turning around to continue the interrogation. 

"I did follow my orders Spi."

"But you didn't die Amphora." Spi chided. His expression had a barely contained smirk but the 'gotcha' could be read clearly in his blue eyes.

Amp scratched his wrist against the cuffs again.

"Your obligation upon becoming compromised is to die honourably as a Scout and not a prisoner," Spi continued.

"I was in no danger of becoming a prisoner."

"Then why didn't you patch yourself up and return to service?"

"I was assumed dead."

"The records rea-"

"Don't start that again Spi, I'll actually bite off my own tongue if you make this go in a circle," Amp interrupted, "I was assumed dead. Irkens die on mission all the time. I suffered an accident, the patrol had to keep moving, so I was left behind to die... moron you would have seen that in the PAK memory."

"That isn't the focus of this interrogation," Spi said. His composure was slipping again.

"Honestly how long have you been at this? Even a smeet could see through that discrepancy," Amp gestured vaguely with his free arm.

"This isn't the focus of this interrogat-"

"You didn't even look, did you? Unbelievable," Amp huffed, "I thought this interrogation would have been better prepared. But I guess I expected too much of the Empire."

"There's nothing to see Defective. Your PAK was too compromised to make an accurate reconstruction," Spi growled before quickly clamping a hand over his mouth. But Amp couldn't help but shiver delightfully at the slip up. 

"Could you repeat that Agent Spi?"

"Shut up."

"It's because there's huge chunks missing from the PAK memory isn't it?"

Spi sunk deeper into his palms. 

"No one can confirm how I died can they?" Amp swung gleefully from the thick cord, "Isn't that wonderful?" 

Spi lifted his head from his hands and furiously said, "I'll have your brain meats scraped off the walls."

"You really are a newbie huh?" Amp answered.

"That is not related to the interrogation"

"So you keep saying. I'm surprised they even let you take this job with your delicate constitution."

"Are you done yet?" Spi said indignantly. 

Amp gave him a once over, "I could insult your platform heels next." 

"You'll have to save it until after the interrogation is over," Spi supplied. He closed the holo-screen in front of him and slid the device back into his robe. The metal chair scrapped against the floor as he stood up.

"Make a note of it now so we cover it later," Amp said. He chose to smile warmly instead of grimace as the agent packed up. "Firstly, you wanted to hear the reason for why I didn't return to my post, correct?"

Agent Spi glanced towards the recorder and back to Amp. He drank in the seconds that passed to fuel the anxiety of his captive. Then finally he pulled his hand away from the active recorder and slid back into his chair. Leaning forward on his haunches, his zipper teeth peaked though his lips. 

"What was your reason for neglecting to return to your post?"

"Do you mind if it's a long explanation?"

"Not at all." 

"You'll have to save your questions until after I'm done. My whole rhythm will be thrown off if I'm interrupted," Amp said. The agent regarded him for a moment longer with an irate squint before waving his hand.

"If you must."

"Great. I have one other request of you." 

Spi sighed, "What is it?"

"Bring in some snacks," Amp jingled, "I'm dying for a donut." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's what ex-scout Amp looks like btw:  
> 
> 
> Anyways feel free to leave any comments, suggestions or critique! I'm always looking to improve my writing if you have any notes on what I could do to improve. Thank you for reading! :D


End file.
